


Hurricane

by Miniatures



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Friends With Benefits, From Sex to Love, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3512648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miniatures/pseuds/Miniatures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel fell silent, caught him staring, and something clicked in Sam’s brain as their eyes met, something bone-deep and primal. He reached out and pulled Gabriel in by the collar and—</p>
<p>Well. That was that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricane

Sam and Gabriel were fucking.

Tensions were high, what with the coming apocalypse—the Trickster archangel dropped in from time to time, claiming not to be helping even though his verbal abuse usually wound up pointing them in the right direction vis-a-vis their current hunt. His visits were annoying, but helpful enough that neither the Winchesters nor Castiel were particularly eager to stake him.

And somewhere in there, he and Sam started fucking.

 

Gabriel was perched on the headboard of his motel bed, and Dean and Castiel were in Dean and Castiel’s room—because tensions may have been high, but _that_ one had thankfully resolved itself. The archangel was flapping his ( _stupid, pretty_ ) lips about something or other and Sam was staring. Because it wasn’t right that a creature that irritating, that vicious and immense, should be so goddamn attractive.

Gabriel fell silent, caught him staring, and something clicked in Sam’s brain as their eyes met, something bone-deep and primal. He reached out and pulled Gabriel in by the collar and—

Well. That was that.

It was violence, and it was release. Together they formed a hurricane with teeth, leaving each other bruised and aching and oh so deliciously raw. Sam lost himself in the push and pull and burn, in the give of Gabriel’s human form and the pinkwet plush of his mouth. They broke beds and shattered glass, and Gabriel never stayed the night.

If his visits increased in frequency after that, Sam paid him the courtesy of pretending not to notice.

 

Sam convinced himself that it didn’t mean he forgave Gabriel. There was too much to forgive. Still, he acknowledged that there was something more to him—something good and sincere lurking beneath the Trickster’s skin. He’d caught glimpses over the years, and even more since they’d started fucking. Since Gabriel had helped them, healed them, smiled— _really_ smiled—at them. Since Sam realized that the archangel was trying.

Sam didn’t forgive him. Not a bit.

Until the night came when Dean and Castiel were shackled by demons, and Sam was pinned and unable to help. Until Gabriel appeared without anyone having to call him and slaughtered the lot. Until he healed Dean first, because Sam asked him to. Until he helped Sam to his feet and kissed him hard, claiming it was just because he could.

At that point Sam had to forgive him a little.

 

They continued to crack headboards for a while. Then Gabriel stopped coming. Just a week, but by that point he’d been popping in almost once a day, and Sam began to worry. He tried not to, tried not to care, tried to tell himself that Gabriel owed him nothing and that he didn’t _want_ to be owed.

When Gabriel came back, he was broken. Physically whole, but there was something splintered behind his gaze, some light gone out. He claimed he’d seen Lucifer. Seen him kill one of their younger sisters—one Gabriel had often played with in Heaven. Seen Lucifer tear her apart with nothing in his eyes.

_He’s rotting,_ Gabriel said, _and I don’t mean his vessel._

Sam’s shoulders slumped. _I don’t want to be that, Gabriel. I don’t want to be him._

Gabriel turned his gaze on Sam, and the light flickered back, fierce and bright. _You won’t._

There was no hurricane. If there were teeth, they were gently used. That night they were velvet and heat, tender bruises and slow, slow, burns. They were forgiveness and fear and everything else they couldn’t say. Gabriel clutched at Sam’s shoulders, Sam’s fists tightened in Gabriel’s hair, and they were making love for the first time on an old Murphy bed in Nowhere, America.

 

_An archangel and an abomination,_ Sam laughed, afterward. _Kinda funny, isn’t it?_

Gabriel smiled. _I’ve heard better._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at like 2 AM instead of sleeping. *twitch* Where am I.


End file.
